Booted (Trails of Sin 3)
I join them at the table and fill my plate with more food than I’ve seen in years.
“How was last night?” Jake bites down on a sausage link, eyes glimmering.
“Fine.”
“On a scale of one to ten.” He reclines in the chair. “How fine?”
Jarret drags a hand over his mouth, but I don’t miss his grimace.
They think I had sex with Raina. Why wouldn’t they? I just got out of prison and spent the evening with a beautiful woman.
“Leave him alone.” Conor points a finger at them. “Both of you. This is our first breakfast together and—”
“No, actually… Let’s do this.” I drop my fork on the plate, rest my forearms on the table, and stare at Jake. “Say what’s on your mind.”
“All right.” He taps a finger on the armrest. “I want to know what you did with her. Seeing how she’s a professional, I’m just curious. I want details.”
“Christ.” Jarret pinches the bridge of his nose and groans. “I don’t want any details.”
Jarret and I lost our virginities around the same time. We learned from each other by swapping stories, swapping girls, and exchanging kinky ideas. There was nothing we wouldn’t talk about.
Times have changed.
“What’s your problem?” Jake asks his brother.
“She fucked our old man.” Jarret shakes with an over-dramatic shiver. “It’s weird.”
I lean forward and meet his eyes. “Your fiancé fucked my half-brother. Think about that. She was married to a man who shares my last name. A man you killed. That is fucking weird.”
“Here we go.” Maybe stands with her dishes and carries them to the sink. “I wondered how long it would take before that was brought up.”
Conor glares at me. “Lorne doesn’t mean to be rude.”
“Yes, I do.”
“That’s okay, because you know what?” Maybe charges back to the table. “This needs to be aired.”
Her hands tangle in the mass of blond curls around her shoulders as she bursts into a tirade about her missing husband.
She blows out the whole sordid tale, one I already heard from Jarret. Except this time, I’m given a different perspective. An emotional frame of reference from a woman who felt deep guilt for hiding secrets from my family—the biggest one being the brother that Conor and I didn’t know we had.
As she paces the kitchen and explains her side of the story, she doesn’t make excuses or defend herself. But it’s clear in her voice that she needed those eighteen months away from Jarret to come to terms with the decisions she made. The woman before me now is stronger, more confident than the one I met in prison two years ago.
She stops beside me and bends into my personal space. “You’re going to warm up to me.”
“I warmed up to Wyatt Longley. Then I gunned him down in a field.”
“Lorne,” Conor scolds.
“There’s a soft center in you somewhere.” Maybe straightens. “You’ll let me see it someday.”
I grunt. “Don’t hold your breath.”
She holds her breath. Literally. With her fists on her hips, she clamps her lips together and puffs out her cheeks.
Seconds tick by, and she doesn’t move, doesn’t breathe.
“Maybe, stop.” Jarret leans forward, his gaze glued on her. “You’re going to pass out.”
She shakes her head, face turning red and eyes bulging as she watches me.
Adorable? I’m thinking it. Crazy? Oh, yeah. She’s way off her mental reservation.
Aren’t we all?
My lips tug at the corner, bouncing my cheek.
She gasps, gulping for air. “Ha! A smile! Told you!”
“Where did you find this?” I ask Jarret, thrusting a thumb at her.
“She found me.” The pussy-whipped motherfucker stares at her with throbbing, heart-shaped eyes.
“And you didn’t let me go.” Her entire demeanor turns to mush as she circles the table and plants a kiss on his open mouth.
He tries to deepen it, and his hand slides to her ass.
“Hold your horses, cowboy.” She dances out of his grasp and heads toward the mudroom, drawling in a hillbilly accent. “I gotta get them critters some vittles up yonder and fix the dern fences down by the crick.”
“I’ll be dreckly behind ya, sugar,” Jarret hollers after her. Then he looks at me, taking in my arched eyebrow. “What? She thinks I’m a redneck.”
“You sound like one.”
“It turns her on.”
“You guys are sick.” Conor laughs and rises from the table. She makes her way to my side and hugs my shoulders. “I missed you, big brother. So damn much.”
“You, too.” I squeeze her arm, marveling at the colorful murals of ink.
“Have you been to the ravine yet?”
“Went last night.”
“Okay.” With a sigh, she steps back. “If you’re out there today, stop by and see me.”
“It’ll take me a few days to get back into the swing of things, but I’ll check out your clinic soon.” Eight years slams into me, knocking the air from my lungs. “My sister’s a doctor.”
“A damn good one, too.” Jake stands and grips her hand. “I’ll walk you out.”